


The Demons We Hide Inside

by thewinchesterrose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood, Character Death, Dean Winchester Angst, Death, F/M, Physical Abuse, Reader Death, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 21:46:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14860881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewinchesterrose/pseuds/thewinchesterrose
Summary: When Demon Dean is free in the bunker, it’s up to you, Sam and Castiel to stop him, but what happens after you corner him will change all of your lives forever





	The Demons We Hide Inside

**Author's Note:**

> MY MASTERLIST ON TUMBLR  
> https://thewinchesterrose.tumblr.com/post/173256082740/the-winchester-roses-masterlist

You couldn’t believe it. Dean. Your husband and best friend, had turned into one of them. You were running down the halls of the Men Of Letters bunker, your phone pressed to your ear as your friends reported their progress.

“How long does it take to bless the water system of this place with holy water?!” You hear Sam yell. Castiel’s incoherent mumbling made you knew that he was cursing, recollecting the enchantment of the spell.

“It’s harder than it looks Sam!” Cas argues back. It was your plan. After Dean had broken out of the dungeon, he was loose and filled with lust, willing to kill. You had suggested that if the fire emergency water system was blessed with holy water, you could program it to hit a certain area and weaken Dean. Then afterwards, drag his ass back into the chair and change him back. Cas willingly accepted to bless the water, Sam hacking the systems and helping with the trap. However, they weren’t remotely calm with your purpose of this operation. As his wife, Dean was more sure to go after you first than his own brother. Sam had done so to Bobby and you when he was soulless. You offered to play cat and mouse, the boys worried that you could get hurt, but what scared you was that you could die and never come back.

You were just a distraction. A lure away from the major work.

You hurriedly looked down each hallway, scared that Dean could pounce and attack. He may be your husband, but he was a demon. Not possessed, an actual demon. Then you heard the familiar rhythm of that walk. The boots of the hunter reverberating against the walls.

“Come on, (Y/N)!” He calls out, you heart clenching tightly. You creep up against a wall, around the corner from where he was. “Let’s have a beer, talk about it.” His voice was the one thing that made you calm, safe and secure. When those recollections of your torturous 180 years in hell came to haunt you at night, he’d be there to fight the darkness away. “I’m tired of playing, let’s finish this game!”

The one thing that kept you from crying and running was the fact that you couldn’t let him get to Castiel and Sam. You leaned against the wall, praying to god, if there was one, that he wasn’t there. Your stomach twisted into impossible knots at this point. You turn and look, relief washes over you. He wasn’t there. You sigh and turn back. Bad move. If your were a split second late, your head would’ve been jelly and you really weren’t in the mood for a reenactment of Glenn from the Walking Dead. 

The hammer drives itself into the wall, the swing from Dean’s arm fast. In that time, you had the demon knife to his throat, breathing rugged from the scare. His hair was looser and brighter, his eyes fuller and smile more evil. It scared you.

“Well,” he growls, a smile on his face, flourishing his hand at you. “Look at you.”

Your eyes must’ve been watering at this moment, because fear had sent your body into overdrive.

“It’s all you sweetheart. Do it.” His mouth turns into a snarl, his eyes turning a bright emerald in the light. Your hand starts shaking, you wanted to cut him and weaken him, for the monster he is. But at the back of your mind, you knew that it was him. It was your Dean. You bring the knife down, tears falling regardless if you wanted them to or not.

“I can’t,” you cry and whimper. “I don’t want to hurt you Dean.” You look at him. “I love you.” He smirks and looks at you. But it wasn’t his signature and warm smirk. It was an devilish and sadistic one.

“That’s a shame,” it happened so fast, you didn’t see it. His hand had caught onto the hammer and swung it out, the flat part connecting with your temple, just by your eyebrow and eye. You fall and cradle it, crying out. But before you fell, he shoved your shoulder, pivoting you and holding you close to him. His mouth attacked your neck, biting willingly broke the skin. His hand had covered your mouth to keep your cries and breaths from being released. The other however held the knife as he aimed it towards your stomach.

“The funny thing is, I want to hurt you. I want to hear you scream. I want you to know that I never loved you. I felt pity on you and used you. You’d know well of that, huh?” He breaths into your ear and drives the knife through. Your screams and blood flood into his hands. He pulls it out and throws you against the opposite wall.

Before you could fight, he swings and drives his fist into your cheek, then jaw, then your torso, alternating the sides being shot at. You whimper and try to fight back. But you can’t. Dean had the upper hand. You were beaten. He was stronger. He was a Winchester. You were…ordinary. He was a demon. You were a human. If you did the math, you knew you were fucked. Minutes later and you’re leaning against the wall, bloodied, bruised and dying. Dean- no the demon, that stood over you smirked down. He brings his leg up and kicks your stomach, you falling on your side and eventually delivering twice the force to your back. You could’ve sworn you heard a crack or snap in your back.

You cry out to him to stop and leave you alone. But you knew it was worthless. Blood pooled in every direction. Dean kicked your side again, this time sending you into the wall. As you laid on your side, your phone crackled as scratched and skipped calls of your friend screaming for you rang out. You looked up at Dean, as he smirked. Behind him, you saw Castiel, you couldn’t help but smile. Your vision stars to fade as Dean raises the hammer, you close your eyes and mutter the lyrics to the song your mother used to sing you.

Then you heard screams. Sam’s loud pitched ‘NO!’ reverberating of the walls. Dean’s demonic screeches as he was trapped. Sam’s commanding voice, instructing Castiel. Cas’ reassuring and calm voice, dragging Dean away, they couldn’t bear to see theirsomewhat little sister like this, and she was going to make sure Dean knew about it too.

Sam leaned down checked for a pulse. Luckily, there was a small one, meaning you were hanging on to every fibre to keep you from being dead. Gone. He picks you up, the way Dean did at your wedding. Your arm falls limp at your side and your ring drops. The simple yet beautiful ring was the only thing that kept the two of you at the status of husband and wife. Without one, the other died. Sam’s muscular build made you feel secure, even with his broken shoulder, he carried you to your room, laying you down on the sheets, blood staining them.

———–

Well it was official, you were dying. You knew you were going to die young at the age of 29 by something supernatural. But you never thought, even with the possibilities and vows preached by Dean, that he’d be the one to hurt you. You, as a ghost or out-of-body death being, saw everything. You watched them revert him, how he gave growls and painful cries. But, they were angry. That’s what they saw, but Castiel was fuming. He was the most protective of you, heck he had a soft spot for you. “Do you have any idea what you just did?! Huh Dean?!” Dean looks up at him. scared, still unable to process what happened.

Then Sam comes in, sad and looks at them, shaking his head. No. Castiel runs his fingers through his hair and tries not to believe it. You can’t be…gone. You, as well as Sam and Castiel look at Dean and he looks at the fuming angel then Sam.

“What did I do?” He asks, scared and only realising now that you were absent from the room. Sam goes and unties him, helping him up and walking him to the room. You crossed your arms and waited. Then it came. The scream. The slam. The cries. You flinch, hoping to never hear that ever. You were now officially dead. And only now Dean realised why- because you tried to keep him from the boys, and when you wouldn’t let him pass, he had to remove the obstacle.

Castiel sighed and walked out of the dungeon, walking into the room. You, of course, followed due to curiosity. Cas pushed pass Sam and placed his fingers to her forehead. Dean whacked them away and stood up. “I’d rather her dead, than live in fear of me everyday because of what I did.” He yells at them. He was right. I’d rather be dead than live in fear of the man I love, regardless of what he did. He yelled at them to leave and when we didn’t comply, he pushed them out. Slamming the door, locking himself and your dead and ghost body in.

———-

Castiel now held a grudge against him as his grace faded away each day. Dean drank, staring at your writing, caressing your face in pictures, sobbing at the smell of your favourite leather jacket, cursing himself each day. You sat by him and held him tightly reassuring him, but you knew it was worthless. Sam tried to stop him before they got the mark off of Dean’s straining right arm. But he eventually left. Before they did, the three men, all six foot and above, salted and burned your body- a proper hunters funeral. Your body burnt, but you didn’t understand why. Why were you still on earth? Shouldn’t you be in hell? Heaven was too good for you. Days passed, Dean drove on the road, you sitting beside him every step of the way. And you understood why. He had your favourite mixtape, leather jacket, wedding ring and box of favourite items in the backseat. He knew the only way you’d be beside him, was if he brought an object you last touched. You thought you’d be happy. You slept with him in the 67 impala model, helped him on small cases and did what you could. But you weren’t. Because Dean cried himself to sleep every night gripping the extra pillow tightly. He drank himself away, let himself be beaten to death by strangers and monsters he faced. He was purposely getting closer and closer to death so he could hopefully see you again. It down right pissed you off.

Then one night, you wouldn’t have to worry about watching him, because Castiel would. Dean was drunk again, voice and speech slurred as he angrily cursed the angels, ladies of fate and the non-existent God of why you had to leave. His breath stunk heavily of whisky and cheap money alcohol as he threw glasses at the wall. His stubble was now a beard, he smelt horribly, like he hasn’t showered in days, because he hasn’t. Castiel appeared in the room, tawny trench coat and all, Dean stalking to him threateningly.

“Bring her back!” Dean yelled.

“No.” Castiel said blankly as you watched them. “The reapers and Death himself are tired of saving you three from your eternal slumbers. Because you,” Castiel gritted, aggravating a drunken Dean more. “killed (Y/N), it was her last moments on earth. She’s stuck here Dean-”

“That’s the point! I want her to be with me, not in heaven, hell or fricken purgatory!” Dean cried out, tears falling down his face. Your heart stung at the sight and you looked at Castiel, him able to see you.

“She’s worried about you Dean, you drinking and being like this is killing her again.” Castiel said as Dean stood up straight. “She doesn’t want this. She said so herself.” He points to the space in the room as you appear in the human realm, Dean’s eyes falling.

“(Y/N)…” His cheeks carry the tears when he sees you. “Baby I’m sorry…!” He walks to you and reaches for you but he can’t touch you. He growls a little.

“Let me go Dean.” You say painfully. I’ll watch over you, I’ll be right here.“

"No you won’t, you’ll be in heaven, far away. I want to be with you.” Dean pleaded.

“Dean…you putting yourself in death’s arms to get as close to me kills me. You have to stop because your time will come.” He looks at you and nods, as Castiel walks over.

“(Y/N)?” Castiel says as he extends your hand. You take it and look at Dean.

“Burn the ring, but keep the jacket.” You and Dean smile a little as you disappear with Castiel. Dean does as you ask, he walks to the box of your stuff and grabs the wedding ring, pouring alcohol on it before grabbing his lighter and igniting the metal. He drinks then throws the alcohol away. He followed your dying wishes.

When you enter heaven, Castiel gripped your hand as he lead you through the twisting path of the forest. “Where are we Cas?” You asked as you looked around, the déjà vu acting up.

“Your own personal heaven. A favourite memory of yours or even a dream.” Castiel says as he leads you through.

“Will I see Sam and Dean from here?” You asked still asking and worried about them more than the fact you were here.

Castiel nods. “Of course, the heaven you have created will allow you.” You nodded as you rounded a small house. You face fell into realisation. This was the cottage Sam and Dean brought you to after your first three hunts. You were, to both boys, friends with benefits and had some fun times. Really fun times which involved a lot of touching and kissing as you sat inbetween the two brothers in the spring of 2012. But it was Dean who stole your heart, Sam not seeming to mind, he always knew. You walked into the house as the Winchesters greeted you, smiling widely.

You smile and walk in, looking around as the pine aromatised the small house. Castiel approached from behind.

“I personally will visit you and pass through messages to them.” Castiel said as you turned and hugged him.

“Thank you Castiel.” He smiles and hugs back kissing your forehead.

“My pleasure (Y/N). Now if you wanted to pass a message, it can be in words, audio or video.” You nodded as you started to enter your personal and private heaven.

Dean would now drive to the end of this earth, unable to face his brother for weeks, but 2 months after your death, he walks back into the bunker with 10 confirmed hunts successful. You stayed in heaven, enjoying your time. But you thought and guessed the worst part is the fact that Sam, Castiel and Dean would never meet their niece or nephew, godchild, son or daughter.

Four months passed after your death, Sam rid the mark from Dean but brought upon a godly force into the world. Whilst stressing, Dean sipped from his scotch glass reading up on lore. As he turned another page, he poured more cheap whiskey into the tumbler. Castiel’s wings fluttered as he appeared beside him.

“Hello Dean. I have a message for you.” He held up a rustic note, Dean taking it and opening it. Your smell wafted and hit his face.

“From (Y/N)?” Castiel nods and disappears as he reads.

Hey there Dean, we’ve got a lot to talk about!


End file.
